


Faithful Wounds

by Debate



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Background Relationships, F/M, Friends as Family, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied Relationships, Post-Canon, emotional development
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7397383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Debate/pseuds/Debate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every two years Lan Fan requires automail maintenance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faithful Wounds

_1917_

Xing, because of multiple civil wars that had ravaged the country for innumerable years and a great desert that separated it from the western world, was decades behind Amestris’ innovation. 

Guns, while existing, were largely decorative and ineffectual compared to trained Xingese archers. Cars had not crossed their way into Xingese borders, although knowledge of the machine existed. Automail on the other hand, could be found almost exclusively in Amestris and had not been conceived across the great desert. 

So two years since she first crossed the border into the alchemical superpower of the world, Lan Fan returned once more. She was not thrilled about it. 

Her place was in Xing with the new emperor, where she could see him and feel the constant steady pulse of his qi. It was not in a foreign land without him, in a land of fair-haired people, machines, and blue coats. 

So she made a quick trip to Rush Valley, ditching the diplomats in East City where they could make arrangements with the Fuhrer and General Mustang, they don't need her assistance despite the familiarity she has with the Amestrians involved. 

She was immensely frustrated when she found out that the mechanic who had originally installed her automail had fled the country. 

It was a possibility of course, he hadn't seemed like the most trustworthy person, willingly designing a weaponized arm for a foreign girl who then went on a record breaking rehabilitation path without so much as blinking an eye. A neighbor told her he had been on the wrong side of the law, tax evasion, among other things. It was a shame, Lan Fan couldn't help but think, he had been very talented. 

She stumbled into Garfiel’s automail store instead. Edward’s girlfriend (or not-girlfriend) wasn't there, but Mr. Garfiel remembered her, (“one of the crazy foreigners who ate too much!”) and seemed pleased to get a good look at her arm. 

He praised her upkeep of the limb, considering the strain it went through after two desert crossings and two years without so much as a check-up. He handed her a large can of maintenance oil and promised to send Winry her greetings before sending her off to meet back up with her traveling companions. 

_1919_

Her journey back to the west two years later was markedly easier than the similar pilgrimages she has taken in the years before. The train was not complete yet but it could take her at least to Xing’s border, and stations established across the desert to give the workers rest also give her a reprieve from the harsh sun. 

She was to complete the rest of the journey by herself, but the Amestrians, constructing the railway on the other side to meet the with Xingese, were willing to share some water and shade, so the journey was the most comfortable of all the times she had crossed the torrid wasteland. 

She went straight to Garfiel’s when she finally reached Rush Valley, not even bothering to inquire after the man who had built her arm. Lan Fan considered herself an efficient person, she wasn’t one to waste her time, and even if the person who built her arm would be more familiar with it, Garfiel had done more than a sufficient job on her last tune up, so she cut out the middle man. 

She was not greeted by Garfiel as she entered his shop, however. Instead, a beaming Winry Rockbell, elbows stained by grease and cheeks flushed from the heat, beamed as she greeted her. 

“Oh, you know Ed did mention that you had gotten automail! Come over here and let me get a look at that puppy!” 

Lan Fan was almost struck dumb by the blonde’s enthusiasm, her eyes seemed to gleam with a vicious delight that Lan Fan had never seen in a person before. 

Lan Fan was practically pushed onto a bed, her shirt shucked off by Winry’s eager hands. 

“Oh would you look at those lines! This design is so crisp! And, wow, it’s always so cool when engineers incorporate blades into design, and it’s retractable too! I wonder what kind of springs…” Winry’s rant continued as she began to speak quickly in technical terms that bypassed Lan Fan’s knowledge of Amestrian.

After Winry finished tinkering with the limb and seemed satisfied with it’s state Lan Fan stretched and checked her dexterity. 

“How’s it feel?” Winry asked eagerly as Lan Fan rotated her shoulder. 

“Like new. You are very talented. Thank you Winry,” 

“Oh anything for an old friend!” Winry replied with enthusiasm, “You take such good care of it too, it’s no hassle!” 

Lan Fan had never had friends (the young lord, the Emperor, had never been her friend, shouldn’t be her friends, she reminded herself), at least not in the sense that she imagined Winry meant, and she didn’t know if she could consider a handful of meetings spread out over four years to constitute a friendship, but she found a comforting peace in the other woman’s words, regardless. 

_1921_

Another two years past, and the railroad was completed. Lan Fan was among the first of the Xingese to use its services. 

It was a true feat of engineering, designed to resist the sandy terrain and harsh weather; but even better it was a sign of good peace, a demonstration for the world of Amestris’ ability to use negotiation and diplomacy. For the Xingese it was a chance for innovation, to dissuade the isolationist tendencies the country had been plagued by for decades and open the hearts and minds of the Xingese people to change. 

Despite the great advantages to the state presented by the railway, Lan Fan couldn’t make herself enjoy the stagnancy of sitting still while the world rushed by around her. 

Exiting the train created a stiffness in her limbs that was in great contrast to the soreness she felt from traversing the desert. It made her feel quite lazy. 

The train from Xing allowed her to ride connecting lines all the way to one of the major towns north of Rush Valley, part of its genius, so the last leg of her journey to the automail capital of the world she walked, despite the opportunity to hitch a ride on a car or carriage. 

She should have felt grateful, her journey time was cut in half, which meant that she could return to Xing, and her duty to guard the Emperor sooner. And she was grateful, her periods of leave from protecting the Emperor were beyond frustrating, and even though the Emperor had thirty personally selected and trained retainers (she was the most skilled, and ashamed by her own arrogance) she never felt like he was safe unless she was there, kunai in hand and eyes scanning the shadows. Instead of pleased, she was annoyed, for reasons she couldn’t identify (she dared not think it was because she liked Amestris, she was all too aware of how the country made her bold, made her tongue loose; she didn’t like Amestris, didn’t like it’s freedom, and she certainly wasn’t grateful that she helped save the country from an alchemical monster). 

She saw the sign that happily boasted ‘Rockbell Automail Repairs and Installation’ before she found her way back to Garfiel’s, and thought that it would be more appropriate to visit Winry for her repairs. The other woman had called her a friend upon her previous visit, and Lan Fan was of the impression that friends made it a habit to visit one another. 

It was midday and the shop was busy, but not in any sort of frenzy. Lan Fan was happy enough to wait, but she ignored the chairs designed for that purpose and chose to stand. 

She was surprised by the sight of Edward Elric when he appeared from the stairs that led to the second floor, to what Lan Fan assumed to be private quarters. 

He was carrying a box filled with notebooks, and loose sheets of paper. A carefree smile was written across his face, and although Lan Fan had known the boy, now a man, for an admittedly short time, she privately thought he deserved to smile everyday of his life, almost as much as his brother. 

His smile grew when he spotted her. 

“Hi there Lan Fan! I hardly recognized you without your mask!” He laughed at his own joke. 

“I’m not protecting the Emperor presently. It would be inappropriate to wear the mask. Besides it’s hot out,” 

Ed laughed some more, as if something about her was particularly funny and then responded, 

“It’s good to see you. It’s been awhile,” 

She nodded in agreement, but quaked at the thought of having to continue a conversation with the blond (former?) alchemist. 

He had been the young master’s friend (he had been Greed’s friend) but she did not think she was one who could earn a place in his small circle of friends, Edward Elric was not as forthcoming with the title as his childhood sweetheart. 

“How have you been?” 

Lan Fan had anticipated Ed to ask after the Emperor, but despite the simpleness of his question, she failed to think of an adequate response. 

Eventually she settled on saying, 

“I am in good health, however my arm is in need of maintenance,” 

Ed set down the box on the unoccupied chair, and even with what Lan Fan would call extensive knowledge of Amestris’ lenient costumes, she was still surprised by his eagerness to speak with her. 

“Do you like the automail? I mean don't get me wrong I like having my arm back, but it's real handy when you get into scrapes all the time, and, well, you are a bodyguard,” 

“I find the automail and it’s fighting capabilities most useful, although I'm happiest when I'm not in a fight. I also appreciate the automail as it is a reminder of my strength,” 

Ed nodded in agreement, 

“Yeah, what did Ling ever do to get someone as loyal as you to work for him?” 

Lan Fan was not sure if the question was rhetorical or not, so she stayed silent. 

Ed scratched his head when she didn't respond and coughed awkwardly, 

“So after Winry tunes you up you wanna spar some? Al’s not around and Winry always complains when I pick a fight with Paninya, so I don't really never get to go all out,” 

Ed’s offer would elongate her trip, most likely by a few hours at least, but she couldn't bring herself to care. 

“Would that be fair, without your alchemy?” 

Ed laughed again, and Lan Fan wondered if he had always laughed so easily, and she simply hadn't noticed, or if it was more of a recent development. 

“We’ll call it even as long as you don't pull out any flash bombs, okay? No alchemy means no instant repairs, and the last time we fought we destroyed more of Rush Valley than my neighbors really appreciate,” 

Lan Fan agreed to his proposal with hidden enthusiasm just in time for a pregnant Winry Rockbell's to emerge from her work room. 

Lan Fan flushed at the sight of her rounded stomach, she quickly turned so her back was to the mechanic. 

“I apologize, I hadn’t realized you were with child, forgive my intrusion,” 

“Oh don’t be ridiculous! I’m not ready to burst yet, and that means I can still work on automail!” Winry said. 

“It’s improper to be in the company of a woman when she’s carrying a child,” Lan Fan replied stubbornly, back still to Winry. 

Winry huffed, “Well maybe it’s that way in Xing, but here in Amestris having a baby is a really happy time, there’s nothing to be ashamed of in bringing a new life to this world!” 

“Yes, there is,” Lan Fan murmured head bowed with cheeks still flushed. She paused to consider “But...If you don’t mind then I’d appreciate it if you would look at my arm,” she continued before Winry or Ed could protest. 

Winry pouted and stilled the hand that had begun to stroke her belly absently. “Yeah, sure, go ahead and get yourself situated in the next room,”

When Winry came in with her tool box, Lan Fan’s arm was outstretched, but her face turned to the wall, the flush still visible creeping down her neck. 

“I don’t mean to pry,” Winry said as she fiddled with a screwdriver (a lie, Winry had always had a natural and insatiable curiosity), “But do you have...an issue with pregnancy?” 

Lan Fan shifted slightly as Winry tugged her arm closer. When Lan Fan didn't answer after such a long silence, Winry assumed she wouldn’t get an answer. 

“When one is pregnant reflexes and movements are slowed, one’s body becomes unfamiliar and more difficult to balance, hormones infringe on judgement.” Lan Fan paused and then whispered, barely audible through where she murmured into the pillow, “Pregnancy leads to children, and children are a burden,”

Winry worked in contemplative silence for the duration of the tune up. When she gave the ok, Lan Fan jumped out of the room, and very nearly dragged Ed outside to find a suitable place to spar. 

Ed was not prepared. 

She had him pinned, back to the ground and forearm to his neck in less than a minute. To save his ego, he associated it to her unique Xingese fighting style, which he had not faced since since his first encounter with Lan Fan when he was fifteen. 

“Again,” she said, moving off him so they could go again. She was relentless and, during their third bout, when he had yet to get a solid punch in, he realized she had him far outpaced. 

By the time they finished, when Ed was panting and Lan Fan had to stop and catch her breath too, Ed felt beaten up while Lan Fan looked slightly relaxed. 

“You are to be a father then,” she said as they headed back, the setting sun finally cooling the dry valley. 

“Yeah, and a damn good one!” he replied, almost defensively. 

Lan Fan tilted her head to the side slightly. 

“I liked your father,” 

Her response was met with grumblings and grunted renditions of ‘bastard’. 

They walked in silence for a moment. 

“The Emperor will be a father soon too,” she blurted out, and was reminded, yet again, how Amestris made her loud when she was normally silent and brash when she was usually level-headed. 

Ed scrunched his eyebrows in a way that made Lan Fan want to laugh. She didn’t. 

“Oh yeah, fifty wives right? That’s so...weird,” Ed paused and then frantically waved his hands, “Not that I want to insult your culture or anything!”

“No, it’s weird,” Lan Fan agreed, “He disbanded the practice though, so in the future there won’t be wars fought over the succession. A committee is to be formed with members of the clans instead. He has only one wife now, so that an heir can be produced,” 

“Oh,” Ed managed to say. Lan Fan became quiet and contemplative once more. “Why don’t you stay the night with us? I mean you’ll have to rest the night in Central regardless, since the train for Xing won’t leave until tomorrow, right?” 

Lan Fan shook her head. 

“No, but thank you for your hospitality,” 

She turned to leave, stretching her arms over her head. 

“Wait! Lan Fan...are you okay?” 

She turned to meet his eyes over her shoulder. 

“No, but your company and the fight helped improve my mood. Thank you Edward,” 

She waved and left into the night. 

_1923_

Eight years after the Promised Day, Amestris came to Xing. 

It was meant as a showing of thanks for Xing’s aid in quelling a rebellion on the southern border. Amestris’ demilitarization was without a doubt what was best for the world at large, but it also left the country vulnerable for the first time, and other countries were not quick to forgive despite Amestris’ attempts at peacemaking. 

Xing was Amestris’ only true ally and they were lucky the Emperor was so willing to give aid when his own country was struggling with domestic issues. 

So the western country had sent a delegation, carrying tasteful and expensive gifts, and with them the automail mechanic Winry Rockbell, as requested personally by the Emperor. 

Lan Fan had not known about the Emperor’s special request till Winry Rockbell came along for the formal introduction, the only Amerstrain present not in a formal blue dress uniform. 

“I wasn’t aware that you would be coming to Xing,” Lan Fan said to Winry after she had managed to shuffle out of the greeting room and escape the strangling diplomacy. 

“Ling--oh, sorry, the Emperor--wanted me to come to look at your arm since it’s been awhile since the last time you had maintenance,” Winry explained. “He also seemed kinda eager to bring automail to Xing, apparently there could be a pretty big market for it, so he was asking me about the possibility of bringing it over here,” 

Lan Fan lead Winry to her room in the palace. It was situated on the eastern side, the oldest and least lavish of the palace’s wings, it's rooms also tended to be smaller, so it was used to house the guards and servants. 

Lan Fan’s room was not as barebones as it had been in her youth, personal items decorated her dressing table, and a solitary photograph hung on the wall. 

Winry hummed as she prepared her tools and Lan Fan got herself situated on the bed. 

“Wow, I'm amazed,” Winry told her as she tightened a bolt. “It's really unprecedented that your arm is in such good shape. Most of my clients need biannual checkups at least, and you work in a really intensive job. There’s barely anything that I to have to fix here!” 

“It is necessary that I keep my body in peak performance, this includes rigorous care of my arm,” Lan Fan explained. 

“Yeah, you're dedication is really admirable. You're really strong, Lan Fan,” 

Lab Fan flushed slightly at the compliment, squirming the fingers in her flesh hand. Winry noticed her discomfort and began to recount the tales of her journey to Xing, much to Lan Fan’s relief. 

A few minutes later Winry snapped her tool box closed and Lan Fan stretched experimentally. 

“Uh, I really hate to ditch you,” Winry said with apprehension, “but do you happen to know where Al is? It's been so long since I've seen him, and I kinda feel bad about leaving Ed at home alone with the kids, but they really are too young to travel, and-” 

Lan Fan cut off Winry’s blabbing with the wave of a hand,

“Usually he would be studying with Princess Chan, but I recall that he was eager to meet the Amestrian delegation. I think he misses speaking in his native tongue. I suspect he is waiting for them to finish their meeting with the Emperor and his advisors. You can follow me,” 

Winry trailed Lan Fan closely, although Lan Fan couldn't blame her, the palace was sprawling and to an outsider it would be far too easy to get lost. 

Lan Fan lead Winry to the northern waiting room that stood outside the Emperor’s inner meeting rooms. 

Sure enough, Alphonse Elric stood in the waiting room, hands shoved in the pockets of the traditional Xingese pants he had modified. He was speaking to one of a few members of the delegation who had remained excluded from the meeting. 

She watched as Winry called Alphonse’s name, running up to him and pouncing on him with a ferocious hug, much to Alphonse’s surprise and delight. 

Lan Fan felt slightly honored as she watched Winry turn around and smile brightly at Alphonse’s companion too, only to grab Alphonse in a hug again. The man was now beaming despite his initial surprise. Winry had stopped to see Lan Fan and take care of her needs before going to greet one of her oldest friends. Winry Rockbell was probably one of the kindest people she had ever known. 

Lan Fan approached them, feeling an outsider as they spoke in excited and rapid Amestrian. But Lan Fan was accustomed to standing by the wayside as the world rolled by around her. 

“It's nice to see you,” Alphonse’s Amestrian friend said, and it took Lan Fan an embarrassing moment to realize the woman was addressing her. 

As she looked up at the older woman, Lan Fan berated herself for not recognizing her sooner, she had been there on the the Promised Day, in the tunnels. Lab Fan grew frustrated when she couldn't recall her name. 

“I suppose you might not recognize me. I'm Riza Hawkeye, we’ve only met briefly, I drove you to the safe house where you had your operation,” 

Lan Fan nodded her head, she had remained largely unconscious at that point and her memory of the time between when she had cut off her arm and arrived in Doctor Knox’s house was fuzzy. But as she reevaluated her memories from arguably the most chaotic day of her life, she was able to pinpoint where she knew this woman from. 

Her hair was shorn short now, not the loose tangled and bloody mess it had been underground on the Promised Day, when she had convinced Greed to let the woman fight with her Colonel. She had the same sort of determined set to her face though. 

“Yes, I do remember you. You worked for Mustang,” 

She nodded again, “I'm surprised you're not inside with the Emperor,” 

Lan Fan pursed her lips, “I wish to be, but the Emperor excused me of my duty today, I realize now it was because he wanted Winry Rockbell to perform maintenance on my automail, but I’d rather be inside with him,” 

Riza Hawkeye smiled in return, “Hm, I kind of wish I can be inside too, but my presence isn’t necessary, so I have to wait out here. I suppose getting to speak with you is a great consolation though,” she paused, possibly as an opportunity to allow Lan Fan to add her input to the conversation, but when she did not, Hawkeye continued, “So, how is your automail?” 

“Fully functional. I’m glad Winry came here with you so she could fix my automail, although I must speak with the Emperor about summoning her here just for me,” 

“Winry is an amazing woman, very caring,” the older woman answered looking off to where said woman continued to talk animatedly with Alphonse, “But in the end the Emperor just wants what’s best for you,” she added. 

“He wants all too much,” Lan Fan answered, resentment, or maybe regret, in her voice. 

Hawkeye, inclined her head, considering her words. 

“So do I, at times,” Hawkeye finally said, “I want more than I can rightfully have, more than I deserve,” she looked down at her hands. She shrugged. “But I content myself with what I might have in the future,”

“I...I want things too,” Lan Fan said, her voice tight. “But...what if...what if there’s no hope for any kind for that future?” Lan Fan said, softer than a whisper. She thought of a smiling, toothless, toddler. 

“Then content yourself with what you have now,” Hawkeye responded. She turned her head to look at Lan Fan and Lan Fan was struck by the deep understanding in her eyes. 

Her voice lowered to Lan Fan’s register when she said, 

“Superfluous things are unimportant, Lan Fan. Spend everyday of the rest of your life protecting that man. It's kept me happy thus far,”

As if on cue, the doors from the Emperor's inner meeting room opened and ten Amestrians filed out. 

Lan Fan spotted Hawkeye’s General easily, the fire tended to leave a rather profound impression despite his average looks. 

He cast a quick glance in their direction before being intercepted by Alphonse, who eagerly asked after him. 

“I think I'll have to be going in a minute,” Hawkeye said to her, “It was a pleasure speaking with you,” 

“We have quite a bit in common,” Lan Fan noted. And they did, even if Lan Fan wasn't fully aware of Hawkeye’s own circumstances, the older woman had spoken to her with an honesty that Lan Fan could usually only count on to find in herself. 

“I hope you find happiness,” Hawkeye said in farewell. She then bowed, at the waist, in Xingese custom and Lan Fan felt that the bow, usually reserved for someone much higher than her station, had been performed with its intended meaning for her. Lan Fan was flattered, and had the strange desire to salute. 

She didn't, but clasped Riza’s hand between both of her own, before she could returned to her General. Lan Fan hoped that Riza would recognize this gesture too, her flesh and metal hand wrapped around the long fingers of a soldier, as one of sisterhood. 

_1925_

She appreciated, at the very least, that Mei and Alphonse were not spending the entirety of their journey making eyes at each other. What she did not appreciate were the pitying glances they sent at her as they sat side by side on the rocking train. 

She would have thought that Alphonse would have shown more commiseration, considering the fact that his brother had wrecked his arm with almost a scheduled frequency and had never been looked upon with coddling sympathy. Or so she assumed. 

She thought she would have preferred it if they had had their hands all over each other, but she knew the couple was reserved in their affections, even on the rare occasion where they were (almost) alone. 

Her flesh hand adjusted where her limp metal arm rested in the sling tied around her neck. 

Mei tilted her head and looked at her with soft eyes. Lan Fan remembered their first encounter, when the then twelve-year-old had not hesitated to throw a knife intended to kill her. The girl from that moment was hardly present in the woman sitting across from him; except for the knives, which no doubt were still hidden on her person. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” Lan Fan demanded, her patience having run dry. 

Mei’s face hardened into the demeanor she used in front of diplomats and clan leaders, what Lan Fan thought best suited a woman of Mei’s metal. 

Alphonse blinked, eyes traversing the distance between the two women, perhaps sensing danger in the air. 

“Well you need to stop acting like this journey isn’t necessary,” Mei countered. She crossed her arms and Lan Fan wondered if it was intended to be a taunt, to demonstrate her own freedom of movement. 

“It would have been preferable to have an Amestrian mechanic come to Xing, or even one of the new Xingese mechanics. It will take much longer with our journey to Amestris,” 

“We know we can’t trust one of those Xingese mechanics, they don’t have nearly enough experience to be working on your arm, and we already know Winry couldn’t make the trek out East,” 

“It didn’t have to be WInry,” Lan Fan bit out, “Each day I’m gone is another day that the Emperor is living without my guard when he is still very much in danger. This journey is unnecessary,” 

“The assassins was captured and killed. The Emperor has plenty of other capable guards, most of whom you hand selected. Worry about your own health,” Mei argued, her tone demanding Lan Fan’s agreement. 

But Lan Fan refused to agree, fiercely whispering, 

“Do I need to remind you that the Empress is dead? The first Empress in centuries! And their son would be very dead too if I hadn’t saved him. There is nothing to suggest that the Emperor is safe,”

Lan Fan and Mei glared at each other, and Lan Fan wished that they weren’t on the train. She was getting stir crazy and her body ached for an outlet for her frustration. She knew Mei would have consented to a bout of sparring, regardless of her useless metal arm, but there was no place to do so. Alphonse would have likely protested anyway. 

Lan Fan rose from her seat, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet, and began pacing the length of the mostly empty passenger car. 

“Lan Fan,” Alphonse called gently to her, after she had crossed the threshold several times, “come sit by us,” 

He must have been worried about how her stormy countenance was affecting the other passengers. The train car wasn’t heavily populated, but Lan Fan supposed she wasn’t easing anyone’s worries about crossing the desert by looking like she wanted to kill something. She did want to kill something. 

She returned to her seat regardless, Mei seemed to have made up her mind to ignore her and Lan Fan refused to acknowledge that the princess just wanted what was best for her. 

Alphonse began talking, in an attempt to lighten the mood, about something Jerso had done in a bar south of Xing’s capital. He was a good storyteller, and despite the fact that she had originally intended to only half pay attention, she found herself laughing appropriately as he continued. 

“Wow,” Alphonse said, once the climax of the story had been explained, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh, Lan Fan,” 

Lan Fan shut her mouth automatically, fighting a blush that threatened to rise on her cheeks. 

“I do laugh!” She protested. 

“Maybe, but I never get to hear it,” he said, not cruelly, but in a tone that was almost instructing. Lan Fan thought it unfair, she was almost two years older than him. “You’re usually so serious,” 

Lan Fan bristled slightly at the comment, 

“I do what my duties instruct me to do. I have no time or need for frivolities,” 

Alphonse sombered at her answer, his face growing more drawn, he said, 

“But you’re still a person with feelings, Lan Fan. You’re not just your job,” Alphonse said reaching out a hand to rest on her knee. 

“You don’t understand,” Lan Fan replied, looking down to where his flesh met hers. She wasn’t accustomed to comforting physical contact. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been hugged. 

“Lan Fan,” Alphonse said, kneeling down to the space between train’s benches. “We’re not even in Xing anymore. If you’re angry...or...sad about the attempt on the Emperor's life, that’s okay. For now, you don’t have to worry about how you feel, we won’t judge you,” 

Lan Fan sucked in a breath. 

“Alphonse, could you--could you hug me?” 

The words hardly left her mouth before Alphonse had leaned forward to wrap his arms around her, carefully maneuvering around her injured arm. She leaned into the touch and a moment later felt Mei’s small yet strong arms squeeze her waist. 

“How did you know I was sad? I didn’t know I was sad,” Lan Fan murmured even as she continued to cling to the back of Alphonse’s coat. 

“You’re a lot like my brother, he acted angry when he was sad too, because he thought it was easier,”

“You can talk about it if you want,” Mei encouraged, pressing her head into Lan Fan’s shoulder. 

Lan Fan gasped, and realized she was holding back tears. 

“He-he told me get the prince. And I did,” she swallowed, “And all I could think about was how I was purposefully leaving, that he ordered me away. And then he did it again,” 

Mei nodded sagely against her shoulder, she had been there, of course, and the Emperor’s instruction to escort Lan Fan to Amestris was obviously a thinly veiled order made to ensure Mei’s own safety. 

“And he could die while I'm away. It's not fair, I should be there protecting him, I've always been his guard, and I--” Lan Fan choked, clenching her eyes closed in a stubborn refusal not to cry. 

“Sometimes my brother is stupid,” Mei said, completely flippant in what would be considered a treasonous statement. 

“We’ll get you a new arm and we’ll put our trust in Ling. He may be stupid but he is the ruler of an entire country, he's gotta use his brains sometimes,” 

Lan Fan remembered a time when she would attack someone for saying similar things about the Emperor, but she agreed with Alphonse so she laughed into his shoulder instead. 

“See, Lan Fan? You have such a nice laugh,” Alphonse said. Her grip tightened on his coat. 

Neither of them broke the contact until Lan Fan began leaning away from them, and by then they'd had reached the first Amestrian stop. 

“So,” Alphonse said after he had returned to his seat and the train had started to move again, “how quiet do we have to be about the assassination attempt?” 

“Alphonse,” Mei answered, “I love you, but I don't trust your country. And the last thing we need is Amestris thinking about starting a war at Xing’s vulnerability,” 

Al sighed and looked out the window, “I suppose that’s fair. I would have hoped our alliance would be stronger than that, but Amestris doesn't have a good track record,” 

Alphonse sighed again, obviously contemplating his options. 

“Well, I won't talk to anyone about it till we get to Resembool, at least,” he agreed. Mei nodded in approval. 

“We’re going to Resembool?” Lan Fan asked. “Why not Rush Valley?” 

“Resembool is closer and it's a nice excuse to pull Winry up from Rush Valley to visit, so everyone wins,” Alphonse smiled, “well, sort of,” he amended looking down at her sling. 

The train stopped through two different trade posts in Ishval, which carved long minutes out of their travel time as goods were unloaded and exchanged. Mei looked out the window almost longingly. 

But soon enough the train began chugging away as the scenery outside shifted from flat dry land to rolling green hills. Their next stop, to Lan Fan’s surprise, was their destination. 

“Resembool used to be the end of the line,” Alphonse explained as he gathered their luggage. “See? Much quicker than going all the way down to Rush Valley,” 

Lab Fan nodded as they stepped onto the platform, she must have passed right through the quaint country town on her previous visits without even realizing it was Ed and Al’s hometown. 

Alphonse led the way along the country road his smile wide and easy as he passed familiar landmarks and remarked upon his childhood. Lan Fan was amazed at how at home he looked. 

Neighbors waved friendly at Alphonse as he passed and gawked discreetly at the foreigners; they were a polite people. 

The walk was longer than Lan Fan expected, but soon enough a yellow house came into view, a sign boasting Rockbell Automail similar to the one found in Rush Valley situated at the end of the walk. 

“Uncle Al! Uncle Al!” came the excited wails of the Elric children as they raced down the hill to meet them. They were trailed by an old dog who chased after them barking loudly, and failing in it’s attempt to shepherd them. They both clamped onto Alphonse’s legs and he pretended to stagger back from their attack. 

“There’s my favorite niece and nephew! It’s amazing how much you’ve both grown!” Al said as the children disentangled themselves from his legs. Alphonse picked up the girl, the younger of the two, and the boy took his free hand dragging him back towards the house. 

“Who are the pretty ladies?” she asked Alphonse shyly. Lan Fan stiffened at the question, it was highly inappropriate for someone of her rank to be called a lady. 

Alphonse explained their relation in simple terms for the girl, who looked at Mei with wide eyes when Al explained that she was a princess. 

Edward was standing on the porch when they reached the end of the drive. He hugged Al fiercely.

“Good to see you, brother,” Al said, handing him back his daughter. 

“Lan Fan you can go to Winry’s workroom,” Edward instructed pointing his finger down the hall, “She’ll want to get your measurements, and build something compatible with your port,” 

Lan Fan nodded and disappeared down the hall, listening as Ed greeted Mei as well. 

Winry’s work room was something of a chaotic mess, but Lan Fan speculated it was organized in such a way that Winry knew precisely where everything was. 

“Hi there Lan Fan!” Winry greeted as Lan Fan untied the sling that hung around her neck, her arm dropping heavily to her side. 

Winry quickly shifted into her working mode, removing Lan Fan’s arm and inspecting the port, measuring the length width and weight of both her metal and flesh arm, scribbling numbers and designs onto a notepad. 

Nearly a half hour later she declared the work completed and joined Lan Fan in the living room to say a quick hello to Al and Mei before she got to work. 

Lan Fan felt guilty for separating her from her family, but Winry quickly declared it nonsense, pointing out that breaking her arm actually brought Alphonse back to Resembool anyway. With a cheery goodbye and a strict glare to remind Ed to feed everyone, she darted back into the work room. 

The adults sat down on the couch, the children playing off to their left. 

“You guys want anything to drink?” Ed offered. 

“No thank you,” Mei answered for them. He moved to sit down on the couch a moment later, one eye appraising his guests the other carefully watching over the children as they played with blocks in the foyer. 

“So,” he said, “I feel like there’s quite a story behind this,” 

Lan Fan placed a hand on the area where flesh met metal, trying to ease herself from the loss of balance she felt without her arm. 

Alphonse and Mei looked to her, but she knew she was no story teller, let them explain. Alphonse began to recount, in hushed tones, so as to not alarm the children, the events that had surrounded the assassination attempt. How the Empress had been shot where she slept, the loud gunshot alerting the servants and guards to the murder, before the information had reached the Emperor, in his own chambers. How the Emperor had then ordered Lan Fan to find and protect his son, as he was herded away to a safe and hidden location. 

Alphonse paused in the story, looking to Lan Fan again, this part of the tale belonged to her and the prince alone, and Alphonse obviously thought her the best one to tell it. 

She relented and told plainly of how she had faced a trio of trained assassins outside the nursery, how she had killed them all, but not before a knife had been plunged into the underside of her arm, just beneath the port and disconnected the nerve endings. How she then retrieved the prince from where a nanny had hid him in a wardrobe and then reported back to the Emperor, slightly worse for wear. 

Mei finished the tale, how her brother had insisted they ship off to Amestris so Lan Fan could heal and where Mei could be out of harm’s reach as the heir apparent until the crown prince came of age. 

The three adults looked to Lan Fan after the conclusion of the tale, as if they expected something from her. She said nothing. 

“Wow,” Ed remarked eventually, a look of astonished surprise on his face, “I guess Ling is having a harder time raising kids than I am,” 

Said children seemed to be having a disagreement at the moment, but Ed hadn’t yet stopped to intervene, no one had been reduced to tears. 

“Is Ling gonna be ok?” Ed asked, noting that Lan Fan was sitting beside him after an assassination attempt rather than in Xing.

Lan Fan answered “No,” the same time Mei said “Yes.” 

The women shot a glare at each other. 

“The main problem,” Alphonse said, “is that the Empress was killed, and with a gun too. The Xingese don’t use guns, as it stands this is practically a declaration of war, as far as the whole of Xing is concerned,” 

“So they think it was an outside job? Not just some angry Xingese rebels?” 

Al sighed, 

“No it probably was, but the worry is who they’re working with,” 

“All the assassins I killed were Xingese,” Lan added.

“And I didn't get a chance to look at the weapons but my bet is that they’re Aerugan make,” Al continued. “Some radicals from the south want to instigate conflict after Xing helped Amestris with the southern conflict two years ago,” 

“So they’re looking for war? That's stupid!” Ed exclaimed. 

Al shook his head, “The country on the whole doesn't want to start a war, but war is a good distraction if you're a rebel force with other sinister plots in your own government,” 

“Well shit,” Ed said, before sending a nervous glance at the kids to make sure they hadn’t overheard, then he continued, “So displeased Xingese rebels teamed up with displeased Aerugan rebels to start a war?” Ed clarified, “But Ling can't just go along with this, war certainly isn’t necessary,”

“You have to remember,” Mei answered, “That the Empress is dead. A member of the royal family, she’s practically holy. And she was well liked to, when she made appearances,” 

Ed shifted to sink into the couch, “Poor Ling,” 

“Yeah,” Al agreed, “I can’t imagine how awful it must be. His wife just died but he has to stay on the helm of the entire country,” 

Lan Fan felt guilty once again after hearing the comment, she had been so preoccupied with maintaining his safety, she hadn’t even considered how his emotions were holding up. She shook her head imperceptibly, no, that’s where her focus should have been, as his retainer, his feelings should come after his safety. The thought made her feel slimy. 

At that moment Edward’s daughter burst into tears, pointing a finger and placing blame on her brother for some petty offense. Ed sighed and then moved off the couch, talking to his children in a lecturing tone. After a moment he looked up to his guests, 

“I’m going to make them dinner, we can eat in a bit,” 

He ushered the kids into the kitchen. 

As Ed prepared simple meal for his children Lan Fan, Mei, and Al waited in the living room, each thinking about the implications of their conversation. 

“I don't think there will be a war,” Al said at last, ”Ling is pretty good at diplomacy, considering he’s Ling,”

Lan Fan shot him a displeased glance. 

“The hardest part will be convincing the advisors and the people that war isn't necessary,” 

Mei smiled coyly, “I love when you talk politics, though I don't know when you got so good at it,” 

Al laughed, “Well I spent a large part of my adolescence around conniving military men,” 

“Don't you mean conniving military man?” Ed corrected butting in on the conversation.

“You’re right, brother, you were pretty devious,” Al amended with a smirk. 

“Hey!” Ed protested as Mei burst into laughter. 

Lan Fan looked away, the teasing and ease which the family (except for Mei, who wasn't family only by technicality) found was not appropriate for her. 

For them the assassination was over, repercussions were still ahead, but the danger was behind them, it gave them freedom to joke, to tease. Lan Fan had no such luxury, for her it was always a waiting game till the next enemy emerged, there was no quiet, simple home life. 

There was a striking feeling that she didn't belong. 

Edward went back to the kitchen to herd the children upstairs and to bed. 

They fought vehemently against him, stalling their inevitable fate by first running down the hall to say goodnight to their mother, then clutching Al and refusing to let go, and repeating the process with Mei, and to her own surprise, Lan Fan. 

Small fingers clung onto her loose pants with grips of surprising strength, for ones so young. Lan Fan looked down at their chubby, pleading faces that wanted her to grant them freedom from going to bed. 

“Please, Miss Lan Fan! Tell Dad we don’t have to go to bed!” 

Whatever argument the children were trying to make was easily refuted when a long yawn escaped the elder’s mouth and the younger blinked rapidly to avoid dropping eyes. 

“No, you both need your rest,” Lan Fan repeated as Al and Mei had before her, gently prying the little girl off her legs. 

“You heard her, off to bed we go,” Ed said, picking his daughter up to rest on his hip. His son begrudgingly followed them both upstairs and to bed. 

Lan Fan watched them disappear to the second story, reevaluating her prior thoughts. The children had accepted her with ease, had treated her exactly the same as they had Al, had molded her into their nightly routine the same way as their family. As if she did belong, and was not a stranger in their home. 

After tucking the children in for the night Edward returned to the kitchen to prepare dinner (or, rather, reheat the meal WInry had prepared) for the adults. 

“You guys can come into the kitchen if you want. It’s all ready,”

The kitchen was cozy, warm and lived in, making it stand in sharp contrast to the large, ornate, and cold rooms found in the palace. She was reminded of her father’s home, the lost years of her childhood before her training, remembered only in a feeling of warmth and the scent of honey. 

Lan Fan dug into the meal Edward presented before her with gusto, as she did with all her meals. It took her a moment, lost as she was in the delicious meal, for her to realization the conversation around her had screeched to a halt. 

She looked up, a noodle dangling between her lips. Ed looked at her aghast. 

“How could I forget! You were half responsible for the Great Room Service Bill of 1915!” Ed squawked. She looked at her plate, two forkfuls remained of her meal, the other three plates on the table had yet to be touched. 

She slurped the piece of pasta into her mouth, looking slightly sheepish. 

“...You named it?” 

Al burst into a fit of laughter, rocking in his chair. Mei joined in and even Ed did too, perhaps realizing his own ridiculousness. 

Lan Fan remembered how Al had complimented her laugh on the train, and a moment later she found herself laughing softly too.

It was a beautiful sound.

Lan Fan calmly helped herself to a second portion as the others started eating, dinner finished quickly. 

“Do you guys want to head off to bed? Traveling was probably exhausting,” Ed asked once the dishes were washed, drying on a rack. 

“I haven’t seen you in six months and you want to send me off to bed brother!” Alphonse protested. “It’s not even nine yet!” 

“Jeez, Al, I’m just being considerate,” Ed grumbled, he sighed, “I guess I’m used to going to bed a little earlier, kids are a handful,” 

“Well, I’m still in the prime of my youth I guess,” Al teased, “I’m used to staying up late anyway. I want to catch up,” 

Lan Fan took Ed up on his offer. In actuality she could go days on very little sleep, but she feigned exhaustion, sensing that the brothers wanted to reminisce on their own. 

Edward took her upstairs, showing her the room she and Mei would be sharing. She bid him goodnight and slipped beneath the covers, waking once when Mei entered some hour or two later, but otherwise sleeping through the night. 

She rose before the sun, as was her habit, despite the time change. She ducked out of the bedroom, so as to not wake Mei. She went downstairs to the kitchen, slicing herself two pieces of bread to munch on. She spotted two empty bottles of wine that had been abandoned on the counter, and suspected that the others wouldn’t be awake for some time yet. Beneath one of the bottles, which sat squarely on the kitchen table was a slip of paper. 

A note, it read: Lan Fan, wake me up if I’m not up before you. Got good news about your arm! Love, Winry. A smiling face sat beside her name. 

Lan Fan replaced the note on the table. Outside the first rays of dawn peaked out from behind the Resembool hills and Lan Fan debated on whether or not to wake Winry. 

Lan Fan didn’t know how late she had stayed up the night prior, but the mother of two was certainly deserving of a good night’s rest. 

In the end, Lan Fan finished her bread and decided to go back upstairs and wake Winry, she had requested it, after all. 

She used her qi sensing to determine which bedroom was Winry and Edward’s, not wanting to accidentally wake the children. She knocked firmly twice against the door. 

She heard sounds of shuffling, and Edward’s distinctive, and unhappy, groan. Winry emerged a few minutes later, slightly disheveled and obviously tired, but with a bright smile. 

“Let’s go downstairs,” Winry whispered, clicking the door closed behind her, “Ed’s a little grumpy,” 

They made their way back to Winry’s workroom. The two women situated themselves on stools facing each other after Winry grabbed her arm. 

“So last night I figured I was going to have to completely rebuild your arm, so while I was drawing up a blueprint, I noticed the wiring,” She hefted up the arm, “The cut through your nerve endings was clean through. I originally thought that the knife hit your center port, which would have mean I would have to either dismantle the entire thing to fix it, or build another one, which, given how old your arm is, would have been for the better anyway. But,” she turned the arm over, pointing to the part that would have been her armpit. “the cut never hit your center port, it cut through each individual wire, which is way more unlikely, it’s kind of amazing actually,

“So anyway, I just had to rewire the entire thing! Which doesn't require me to dismantle the entire arm and doesn’t take nearly as long as building an entire new arm, so I can attach it right now if you want!” 

Lan Fan blinked in confusion before nodding her consent. 

Winry knelt beside her, aligning the arm with her port. 

“It’ll sting a bit,” Winry said, “On three,” 

She connected it on two. 

“It might take an hour or two to get full feeling back, since it’s an entire new connection,” 

The arm felt numb, as if it had sat in an ice bath for hours, but she could still move it, and the reassurance that she would have full dexterity in a few hours was reassuring. 

“Thank you Winry. I couldn’t ask for a more talented or helpful...friend,” Lan Fan smiled. 

“It’s really no problem, I considered starting a new arm, considering yours is almost fifteen years old, but then I figured you’d want to get back to Xing asap,” Winry admitted.

Lan Fan nodded in agreement, beginning to rotate her shoulder and flex her fingers to get used to the connection. 

“You’ll have to stay for breakfast at least. I think I’ll spoil the kids and make pancakes since your arm is all done,” 

Winry’s statement was followed by heavy thumps from the floorboards above them. 

“Speak of the devil…” Winry muttered, “Those two never stay down for long,” 

Lan Fan walked behind WInry as they shuffled out of the work room to meet the children as they thundered down the stairs. 

Breakfast was an interesting experience as Lan Fan was placed in charge of minding the children as Winry prepared the meal. She had never spent any notable amount of time with children since she herself was a child, and was unaccustomed to their excitement and natural curiosity. Both of them seemed eager to hear stories about her job as the Emperor’s guard and that saited their curiosity until stacks of pancakes were placed in front of them. 

Sunlight fell strongly through the kitchen windows when Alphonse, Mei, and Edward finally wandered into the kitchen from upstairs, and the room felt alight with a golden happiness. 

Lan Fan’’s return journey on the train later that day was rather lonely. 

_1927_

“Pst! Lan Fan!” 

Lan Fan awoke and sprang up from her bed in an instant, knife in hand as she locked eyes with the Emperor of Xing as he sat on her window lattice. 

He smiled goofily. 

She lowered the weapon.

“My lord! Are you well?” She asked in a hot whisper. 

“Right as rain!” he replied cheerily, “Mind if I come in?” 

She nodded twice even as thoughts of how improper it was for the Emperor of Xing to enter the dwelling of a lowly guard raced in her mind. 

He slipped into the room, casting it a quick approving glance; he had never entered her quarters before. His eyes returned to her. 

“So I was just thinking that we should sneak out for the night,” he said as if he was fourteen again. 

“Highness, that would be-” 

“Improper, yeah, I know, it will also be fun,” He smiled, teeth and all, and, well, Lan Fan couldn’t refuse him if she tried. 

She noticed for the first time that he was wearing casual clothes, it made her think he was fourteen again, it had seemed that long since the last time she had seen him without the stuffy royal robes. He looked almost...carefree, seeing him so happy made her happy too, as if his happiness mixed with the air to infect her. 

A smile grew on her face despite the inappropriateness of the entire situation. 

“Haha! I knew you’d agree,” he said as he saw the smile appear on her face. And don’t even think about bringing that mask,” he said when he saw her gaze dart to it, “We’re going incognito,” 

That explained the absence of his robes. He gestured to the open window behind him, 

“Come on let’s go!” 

She slipped out of the window behind him into the night. 

“And don’t worry,” he told her as they approached the gates of the palace, “I already told the gatekeeper we were going out for the night, so someone knows we’re going out, if worse comes to worse,” 

The gatekeeper, an aging man with an abundance of wrinkles around his eyes barely acknowledged them as they slipped out of the palace and into Xing’s capital city. 

Lan Fan suspected that it was almost midnight, yet the city seemed wide awake, lights that she only ever saw from her rooms glowed around them. And it was just as loud around the streets during the night as it was during the day. Unfortunately, the odor was also as unpleasantly pungent. 

“Let’s go up to the roofs,” The Emperor suggested as they wandered the colorful streets, “I bet the view’s fantastic,” 

He hoisted himself onto a low awning before jumping up to one of the higher roofs. Lan Fan followed a step behind, grunting as she balanced herself. 

“Are you alright Lan Fan?” The Emperor asked sharply when he heard her noise of distress. 

“My automail is a little stiff,” She admitted, “I need new maintenance oil,” 

“We should stop by an automail shop tomorrow then. It would be good to show imperial support in the automail industry. From what I hear it’s booming, you might not have to go to Amestris anymore for maintenance,” 

Lan Fan sobered at the thought. 

They both stood atop the roof that he had chosen and he grew antsy at her silence. 

“Sorry, I really shouldn’t talk about policy now, I promised myself I wouldn’t but that didn’t really work,” he sighed. “Sorry,” he repeated, “There is something I wanted to talk to you about though,” 

He pointed to one of the old temples, the tallest building in their vicinity, 

“Let’s sit there,” 

They slinked across the rooftops, dashing up the scaffolding to perch atop the roof. 

There were no stars above them, even though it was a cloudless night, but the circles of light across the city from lanterns sparkled below them not unlike a sea of stars. 

“So, tomorrow…” 

“The prince turns six,” Lan Fan finished for him when he finally broke the silence between them. It had been uncomfortable, he was so rarely ever silent, that had always been Lan Fan’s role, so she had jumped at the opportunity to speak, she didn’t want to wait in the quiet with him. 

“Yes,” he agreed, “You know, I had just turned six when I met you, to start my training with Fu,” 

Lan Fan nodded, she remembered the day well. 

“I miss Fu a lot Lan Fan, I thought I ought to tell you that,” 

Lan Fan remembered how excited he had been when he had appeared at her window, and wondered when they had become so somber. 

“As do I, my Lord,” 

“You know he was kind of like my father to me. He taught me so much, when I had never even known the last Emperor. I’m really grateful for that,” His voice was soft, words threatened to be lost to the wind and the inky black sky. 

He was looking straight at her for the first time she could remember in years without her mask on. The noise below them sounded fuzzy, as if it were happening far away. 

“Lan Fan, I really want you to train Guozhi,” he said at length. The wind blew with strength and Lan Fan’s bangs thrashed against her face. She didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing. 

“It’s just that...if Fu could be like my father, then maybe you could be like his mom?” Ling pleaded, his eyes searching imploringly across the plane’s of her face. Her breathing was shallow. 

“Please, Lan Fan? I feel--I feel like it would be a consultation, at least, for us,”

Lan Fan’s heart clenched and she felt that she had stopped breathing, for just a moment. And in that moment she realized how alone they were. Alone like they had not been in the last twelve years. And yet she noticed the space between them, how even now she sat not beside him, but slightly behind, and at least an arm's width away. He had been turning back to look at her. 

“Ling--” He smiled, happily, and fully, and just for her, “--I’d be honored,” 

It was not what she had intended to say, she had meant to protest, she couldn’t guard him and train his son at the same time, she was not meant to spend so much time with the prince, she certainly wasn’t supposed to be a maternal figure, she was not motherly. 

But she wanted to, she wanted to see Ling smile at her like that again, happy and healthy and safe. 

He leapt at her, wrapping his arms around her in a hug. 

“You’re the best, Lan Fan,” He said squeezing her tightly, “The best, best, best,” 

She exhaled what might have been a laugh, or what might have been a sob. She wiggled her arms out from where they were trapped between their bodies to return the hug. 

She hugged the Emperor of Xing, she hugged Ling, her tears wetting the shoulder of his jacket. Happy tears or sad tears she couldn’t tell, maybe both, or maybe tears of a completely different emotion. She felt her own qi flow like liquid perfume, fragrant and full of feeling. 

“Maybe we should head back,” Ling said, an undetermined amount of time later, “before people start to worry,” 

Lan Fan nodded in agreement, using her sleeves to wipe tear tracks from her face. 

As they made their way back to the palace, Ling returned to his chipper mood, and Lan Fan thought he seemed himself again, talking eagerly. 

She thought she understood why he had acted fourteen again. 

“So,” he said once the palace gates were in view, “Do you need to get maintenance tomorrow? You won’t have to report if you don’t need to,” 

“Yes, but, I would like to return to Amestris in the future,” she looked up at him, how odd to think she would feel comfortable looking him square in the eye without her mask, “I’ve...made friends,” 

“Friends!” Ling exclaimed, “Oh, that’s great!” 

His face fell and his expression became comically anxious. 

“But, wait, Lan Fan, I’m your best friend, right?” 

“Of course,”

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, give me all the Lan Fan brotps.  
> This fic kinda got away from me, I really didn't mean for the fifth part to be so disproportionately long (and thats after I deleted 4k words) and the last one didn't really fit the theme of the rest of the fic. I also didn't want to name the kids, but it came to a point that it was unaviodable, Guozhi is a Chinese name meaning "may the state be ordered" (according to google, correct me if I'm wrong) and I feel like it was a bit of a cop out to kill Ling's wife, I hope I did that part of the fic justice, and that Ling and Lan Fan's relationship came out the way I wanted it to, but I really like this piece, so some feedback would be great :D


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